Team Atlantis: The Deep
by Dr. Algae
Summary: A story in the style of the sadly unmade "Team Atlantis" animated series. When a young girl goes missing on the sea-swept coast of Ireland, Kida, Milo, Audrey, Sweet, and Vinny are dispatched to investigate. The Team arrives expecting just another routine monster hunt, only to instead find themselves facing off against a terrifying new adversary.
1. Act I

_Team Atlantis_ and all related characters and concepts are the property of the Walt Disney Company. Everything else in this tale is drawn from history both real and imaginary.

* * *

" _That which is far off, and exceeding deep, who can find it out?"_

 _~Ecclesiastes 7:24_

 **Bantry Bay, Co. Cork, Ireland, 1920 A.D.**

The sun slowly dipped beneath the waves, not that anyone could tell. It did not set the horizon ablaze with a blood red glow or turn the blue heavens to a deep twilight purple, nor was the oncoming night heralded by the shimmering Evening Star. The uniform grey of the sky merely turned a progressively darker shade of grey.

Muireann O'Malley couldn't care less as she ran along the sandy beach, her friends Aisling and Coibhe keeping pace as they kicked a gnarled leather ball back and forth between them.

"Me ma' says the Black an' Tans burned down Galway," Aisling spoke matter-of-factly, kicking the ball to Muireann.

Muireann intercepted the ball, casually hopping it from one knee to the other. "Well me da' says if they try any o' that 'round here, he'll shove his harpoon up their-"

"Yer da' is full of shite, Muireann!"

Muireann responded by aiming the ball directly as Aisling's face, pouring all her fury into the kick.

"OI!" Aisling yelled, barely ducking as the projectile went shooting over her head with all the speed and force of a cannonball.

"TAKE THAT BACK!" Muireann bellowed, stomping right up to her friend.

"Shan't!" Aisling pouted. "Yer da' is a drunken liar."

Muireann balled her fists. "You take that back or-"

Something like thunder seemed to rumble from deep below, causing the sand to vibrate beneath their feet.

"What was that..." Aisling asked.

"I dinne know... maybe..." Muireann spoke glancing around before falling dead silent.

Far out in the bay, the dark grey waters churned. An eldritch greenish-blue glow, like the eye of some massive serpent, seemed to move just below the waves before sinking back into the depths.

The three girls huddled in dazed silence for a long moment, eyes agog.

"M-Maybe we should go home?" Coibhe finally piped up, shyly.

"Yeah..." Muireann whispered. "Wait... What about me ball?"

"You kicked it away, you go get it!" Aisling snipped.

"Fine!" Muireann huffed as she began clambering over the granite rocks that marked the beach's sandy borders. She hopped from one boulder to the other while muttering a hushed prayer.

"Oh, Saint Anthony, please help me find me ball and I promise not to cuss at Aisling... as much."

She stopped short, noticing the ball floating on the placid waters. Her eyes rolled Heavenwards.

"Very funny," she grumbled before kicking off her shoes and cannonballing into the sea.

The cold waters numbed her skin as the salt stung her eyes. As they adjusted to the gloom, she noticed something made her forget completely about her ball.

Before her, loomed a great stone frame, at least ten feet high from threshold to lintel. From somewhere deep within, a pale blue light shimmered enticingly.

She swam back up to the surface, drinking in the cool air. It would be stupid to go poking about some underwater magic cave, the very height of inane foolhardiness...

She sucked in enough air to burst her lungs... and dived.

[-]

"It's been a while," Coibhe muttered as she drew horses in the sand. "Maybe we should go look fer her?"

"She's fine," Aisling snipped, skipping stones along the water's surface. "I say we give her five minutes then-"

A piercing scream erupted from somewhere beyond the granite rocks, only to be drowned out by a bestial howl.

Aisling and Coibhe broke into a panicked dash, fleeing the empty beach as rain began drizzling from the grey sky.

[-]

 **Whitmore Manor, Washington D.C.**

Queen Kidagakash Nedakh of Atlantis sat alone by the bedroom window, staring out as raindrops pattered against the glass like a thousand bored drumming fingers.

Water did not fall from above in the world she knew. The first time she beheld rain, shortly after being stranded on the surface world, she had thought the sky itself had cracked open. It had seemed both a terror and a wonder at the time.

Now… she barely noticed it.

 _Knock knock._

"Enter."

"Hey, Kida," Milo Thatch poked his head in the door. "Dinner'll be ready in about half an hour. Cookie's making his famous One-Pepper-Seven-Pots of Chili! At least, he says it's chili."

"I'm not hungry."

"Me neither," Milo admitted, sitting himself down beside her. "I was actually hoping we could hide in the closet until he loses interest and moves on?"

Kida smiled weakly, she couldn't help but appreciate her consort's sense of humor even at the worst of times.

"Is this about what happened in Paris?" Milo asked, extending an arm.

Kida leaned into him, allowing her head to sink into his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her. "My people created the Praying Gargoyle to save lives, to protect those who could not protect themselves… yet the Gorlois almost turned it into a weapon of mass murder."

"Yeah, but we stopped her and destroyed the Praying Gargoyle. That thing is _never_ falling into the wrong talons again!"

"That's not the point, Milo. We may have stopped the Gorlois from destroying humanity, and Erik Hellstrom from bringing about Ragnarok, but this world is filled with fanatics just as bad; if not worse. If another lost Atlantean weapon were to fall into the wrong hands…"

"Kida," Milo spoke softly, drawing her closer. "You're not guilty of the crimes others commit using Atlantean technology."

"No… but I am responsible."

They sat in silence until…

 _Knock knock._

"Hey, You two lovebirds decent in there?" the muffled voice of Vincenzo 'Vinny' Santorini spoke from the hall.

"Yes, Vinny," Milo sighed.

"'Cuz I can come back later if you're… you know…"

"It's fine, Vinny."

"Uh… Exploring the depths of Atlantis, playing with your dynamite, doing the Leviathan with two-"

"VINNY!"

"Anyway, boss man wants to see you downstairs when you're done but… like… don't rush yourselves, okay?"

"Thanks, Vinny," Milo answered icily, as Kida shook with barely contained laughter.

[-]

Vinny sat at the long dining table, tinkering absently with a tangle of wires. Beside him sat Audrey Ramirez, Team Atlantis' resident mechanic, leaning back on her chair as she chewed a piece of gum. While across, sat the chiseled form of Dr. Joshua Sweet. All the while, Obby the lava-dog snoozed contentedly in the roaring fireplace.

"Vincenzo, now what have I told you about playing with explosives at the dinner table?" Dr. Sweet scolded playfully.

"Technically, it's just the detonator. I left the actual explosives in the pantry."

The argument was cut short by Milo and Kida slipping through the oak panel doors.

Vinny poked his head up for a moment. "Wow! That was fast."

Audrey had to bite down on her cap to keep from breaking into a fit of snickering.

"That's enough out of you two!" Sweet interjected. "Milo, Kida, pay them no mind, now! There ain't no shame in it, no siree! It's a beautiful and natural thing, as God intended!"

"We weren't… Nevermind," Milo conceded, slumping into his chair.

"Ah, there you all are!" Preston B. Whitmore proclaimed grandly, emerging from the elevator connecting the main house with his subterranean sanctum. "Where's Mole?"

"We left him in Paris," Milo answered. "He said he wanted to 'let ze moist caress of his native soil heal his wounded soul'… or something."

"Okay, that's disgusting," Audrey piped up

"We all gotta deal with heartache somehow…" Sweet sighed. "But yes, it is disgusting."

"Crying shame, one of my old mason buddies turned me on to something right down his burrow," Whitmore observed, unfurling a copy of the _Irish Independent_ and slapping it down on the table, one small article on the front page circled in red ink.

 _GIRL MISSING IN BAY, FATHER BLAMES SEA MONSTER_

 _Muireann O'Malley, age 12, missing since last Sunday. Last seen near a beach in Bantry Bay, Co. Cork. Father and harpooner Ned O'Malley, age 41, blames sea-beast for girl's disappearance, though authorities suspect misadventure among treacherous rocks and tides._

"Sea-beast…" Kida whispered fearfully.

Milo squeezed her hand. "Kida, that doesn't mean anything. People see 'sea-monsters' all the time."

"Yeah, like us." Vinny began counting off on his fingers. "We saw the Leviathan, the Kraken, that big tentacle thing back in Paris. Though, technically that was more of a fresh-water monster. I guess that would make this thing like a… like a bay-monster?"

"Wait…" Milo paused. "Bantry Bay?"

"Is that significant?" asked Kida.

"It's probably nothing. But according to Irish mythology, Bantry Bay is where Cessair first landed."

Audrey leaned back in her chair. "Yeah, Milo, let's pretend you're in a room full of people who _don't_ know anything 'bout Irish mythology?"

"Oh right, sorry. Well… according to the _Lebor Gabála Érenn_ , the Irish Book of Invasions, Cessair was the granddaughter of Noah and leader of the first human settlers of Ireland. Supposedly, Noah told her to lead her people there to escape the Great Flood."

"Did it work?" Audrey asked.

"Eh… not exactly. They were all wiped out anyway, except for one guy who survived by turning himself into a fish."

Dr. Sweet slowly arched a skeptical eyebrow. "Yeah... I'm pretty sure exactly none of that is in the book of Genesis."

"Well, Irish mythographers did have a habit of mixing and matching Biblical and pagan sources," Milo admitted.

"But Cessair and her people could have been Atlantean colonists fleeing Mabelmok," Kida interjected. "And this 'monster' could be another creation of Atlantean science!"

"That's certainly possible," Milo conceded. "But-"

"Then we leave for Ireland, at once!" Kida pronounced imperiously before sweeping out of the room.

"You know… I always wanted to see Ireland," Vinny admitted.

[-]

 **Bantry Bay, Co. Cork, Ireland**

Vinny stood on the prow of the _Atlantean_ , rain soaking into every fiber of clothing on his body. Before him, sprawled a crumbling mold-ridden fishing village under on oppressive black-grey sky.

"Okay, I've seen it. Can we go home now?"

"Aww come on, Vinny," Dr. Sweet beamed, throwing his arm around the Italian. "Just breathe in that salty air!" The doctor's nose scrunched slightly. "Lord, I hope that's salt."

Kida stepped up to the prow, clad in a lavender woolen jumper, dark blue trousers, and grey raincoat. She gripped an Atlantean spear tight in hand.

"Milo and I will track down the girl's father. The three of you, see what you can learn in the local tavern. We will meet you later." Kida commanded before sweeping down the gangplank.

"Uh… what she said," Milo added as he hurried to catch up.

"Did she just order us down to the pub?" Dr. Sweet asked, slightly incredulous.

"Eh," Vinny shrugged. "Works for me."

"Last one there buys the first round!" Audrey yelled, practically leaping over the gangplank.

[-]

Kida strode along the ramshackle wooden dock, spear slung over her shoulders, heedless of the incessant drizzle as Milo huffed behind.

"Uh… Kida, maybe you shouldn't be waving that spear around?" Milo suggested. "Technically, the whole island's in a state of a civil war right now. Someone might get the wrong idea."

Kida stopped, tilting her head. "Is that why the people are so ireful?"

"Yes! I'm mean… wait, what?"

"It is the Land of Ire, is it not?"

"Uh… Kida, that's not why they call it-"

"Hail, Woman of Ire!" Kida strode up to a crooked old woman who was gutting fish by the peer. "We seek father and harpooner, Ned O'Malley, age 41!"

The old woman gazed up at the two wordlessly for a moment, before pointing out an old fishing boat tied at the end of the dock with her knife.

"Thank you, good mother!" Kida sprinted off in the appointed direction, Milo hot on her heels.

The old boat almost seemed to age the closer they got to it, the few remaining flecks of white paint peeling from the bare wood. Carved upon the prow was a single word...

 _Tigress_

Within sat a veritable giant of a man with a wild mane of dusk red hair, running a whetstone along the edge of a harpoon that must have been at least six-foot in length.

"Ned O'Malley?" Kida inquired.

"What of it?" the giant whispered, a hint of whiskey on his breath.

"We were wondering if we could ask a few questions about what happened to your daughter?" Milo asked sheepishly.

"More reporters, eh? Come again to make a laughingstock of daft ol' Ned, thinking his child was spirited away by the merrows?"

"No… we…"

"WELL, I'LL NOT HAVE IT!" the harpooner leaped to his feet, weapon in hand. "YE HAVEN'T SEEN THE THINGS I'VE SEEN! YE HAVEN'T SEEN THAT SEA-DEVIL'S GREAT YELLOW EYES WATCHING YER EVERY MOVE FROM THE MIST! YE HAVEN'T HEARD IT CLAWING AT YER DOOR IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT! YE HAVEN'T…"

Kida and Milo leaped back, expecting the drunk to try and skewer them on his harpoon. Instead, he fell into a quiet whisper.

"The beast took my baby girl… the only flesh and blood I had left on this Earth. I've nothing left to live for…" His fingers clenched about the harpoon. "Save for making that monster suffer!"

"Perhaps... we can help with that?" Kida offered.

The giant eyed her suspiciously, as though seeing her for the very first time. "And what would be in it for ye?"

Milo rubbed his neck. "Well… you could tell us exactly what you saw?"

[-]

 **The Hungry Seadog Inn**

Audrey, Sweet, and a breathless Vinny gazed up at the painted sign hanging over the pub door. It depicted something that looked like a cross between a wolf and a giant fish devouring a hapless sailor; the unlucky soul's legs flailing comically in the air.

"You know…" Vinny panted. "That seems in bad taste?"

"Well… Kida said to check the place out," Dr. Sweet shrugged. "Might as well enjoy some o' that famous Irish hospitality."

The sound of fiddle playing rang out from the pub's door, only to be instantly silenced as the three stepped over the threshold. Several dozen wary eyes locked on them from the smoky interior.

"Infamous is more like it," Audrey mumbled as they sidled up to the bar.

"Ah don't mind them, luv," the portly barmaid beamed warmly before turning to her regulars. "AIN'T NONE O' YE GOBSHITES SEEN TIRED TRAVELERS BEFORE!? EYES BACK IN YER SKULLS!"

The rest of the pub's patrons turned back to their drinks wordlessly.

Sweet nodded "Thanks, Ms…?"

The barmaid shifted seamlessly back into a sugary smile. "Oh, they just call me Molly around here. What's yer pleasure?"

"Three pints of your finest larger, please." Sweet slapped Vinny on the shoulder. "Our friend here will cover the cost."

"Coming right up," Molly began drawing the pumps.

"Sure, why not?" Vinny glanced about. "You know, is it just me or do the locals seem a little… tense?"

"Oh don't take it personally, luv." Molly served up three foaming pints. "They're just a little on edge 'cuz o' the Black n' Tans."

"Excuse me?!" Audrey snapped indignantly.

Molly covered her mouth."Oh, forgive me, luv! That's not what I meant! I meant the 'Royal Irish Constabulary Special Reserve'. Buncha murdering, raping blackguards that devil Churchill sent over to keep us in our place!"

"I take it that's why no one's called in the police about that missing girl?" Sweet asked.

"Young Muireann? Heavens no! God forgive me for saying it but the poor dear's probably safer with the Dobhar-chú."

Vinny cocked an eyebrow. "The dober what?"

[-]

 **The** _ **Tigress**_

"Dobhar-chú? That's Gaelic for 'Hound of the Deep' isn't it?" Asked Milo.

"Aye," Ned nodded. "A beast like a great wolf that moves as well on land as in water, with a ravenous hunger for human flesh! Me na' used to tell stories 'bout it but I never believed her until…"

Milo was suddenly thankful they'd left Obby back in the States.

Kida was silent a long time. "How do we kill it?"

"We? This isn't a fishing cruise, lass! The Hound is a killer!"

Kida glanced about. Her eyes landed upon a seagull perched atop a barrel, a half-eaten maceral dangling from its beak.

Kida let her spear fly, pinning the maceral to a stone wall as the panicked gull took to the sky.

Ned tilted his head appreciatively. "Hop aboard."

"Kida, are you sure this is a good idea?" Milo asked. "We don't know anything about this creature."

"It took a child's life, Milo. That is enough." Kida intoned coldly before turning to board.

Milo rubbed the back of his neck anxiously as he followed. "I just hope the others are having better luck than we are."

[-]

"At Fiddler's Green, where seamen true!

When here they've done their duty!

The bowl of grog shall still renew!

And pledge to love and beauty!"

The dulcet tones of Dr. Sweet rang throughout the pub in harmony with at least half a dozen patrons, each with a cold frothy pint in hand.

"Amazing what buying the whole bar a round can do?" Audrey observed wryly.

"Alchohol is a beautiful thing, Audrey. It brings people together, you know? Plus it's very flammable." Vinny sniffled. "I think I got something in my eye."

"Yeah, well, I'm gonna ask around now that the locals are a little more... lubricated."

It only took Audrey a moment to spot a knot of spectators huddled about a small table in the corner.

At it sat a girl, not more than nineteen, with short-cropped hair that might have been blonde if not for a liberal layer of soot and grime. She was clad in an engineer's overalls. On the table before her lay a pocket-watch, screwdriver, toothpick and a half a pint.

She emptied her glass with a single gulp, cracked her knuckles then sat to work rapidly disassembling and reassembling the watch with blinding speed. Her fingers moved with spider-like dexterity, manipulating gears with almost unconscious ease until...

"Nine minutes and thirty seconds!" spoke one of the patrons, gawking at his own pocket watch.

"Not bad," Audrey conceded. "Bet I can do it in eight."

The dirty blonde merely smirked, gesturing for Audrey to pull up a seat.

[-]

"It was a monster, all right. A cable's length long from beak to tail. And it came a-bellerin' out of the night, with one big eye like a lighthouse." the old sailor whispered, chewing anxiously on the stem of his pipe.

"That's great and all, pops," Vinny drawled. "But where exactly did you see this monster, huh?"

"Off on the far-side of Whiddy Island, out in the bay!" The old man gesticulating with his pipe in a general north-westerly direction.

[-]

"Seven minutes and eighteen seconds!?" the timekeeper crowed as Audrey snapped the pocket watch's casing shut.

"Nice, you even got rid of that scratching sound it kept making?" the dirty-blonde engineer purred, holding the reassembled watch up to her ear.

"One of the gears had a malformed tooth, just filed it down a little." Audrey shrugged.

The dirty-blonde extended a greasy hand. "Name's Axel."

"Audrey," the mechanic took the offered hand. "You don't exactly sound like you're from around here... Brooklyn?"

"Sorta, my mom was actually from here originally, but we had to leave back in sixteen." Axel tilted her head. "And you... The Bronx?"

"Born and raised. So what brings ya back to the old country?"

"Got an engineering job on a ship. It's good work even if the Captain's a tad... intense."

Audrey frowned. "I didn't notice any other ships in dock?"

"Oh... they're around. Buy you a drink?"

Audrey smirked. "I thought you'd never ask."

[-]

"At Fiddler's Green, where seamen true!

When here they've done their duty!

The bowl of grog shall still renew!

And pledge to love and beauty!"

"SHUT THAT RACKET, THIS INSTANT!"

The entire pub went dead silent as every eye swiveled towards the source of the barked order. At the entrance stood three burly looking British policemen in paramilitary gear. Their uniforms were a mismatched hodge-podge of khaki and deep dark-green that looked almost pitch black in the dim light.

"Black and Tans?" Dr. Sweet whispered to one of the locals, who merely nodded in response.

The three swaggered up to the bar, led by a mustachioed sergeant. "Oi, three brandies, you fat cow! You can put 'em on our tabs."

His two constables chuckled as a flint-eyed Molly brought them their drinks without as much as a word.

Before they'd managed to take their first sip, an old half-drunk sailor stumbled backward, tripping over the long scarf about his neck and spilling his pint all over the sergeant.

"Begging yuir pardon, sair," the old sailor pleaded, fretfully attempting to mop up the spillage with his scarf before a heavy hand fell on his shoulders.

"Not at all, my good man." The mustachioed sergeant smiled serenely as he winked at his men. "In fact, why don't we buy you another drink?"

"R-Really?" the old sailor asked incredulously.

"Certainly! In fact," The sergeant's serene smile twisted into a cruel sneer as he grabbed the old sailor by the collar. "Why don't we buy you the whole bloody pub!?"

Before the old sailor could react, the three had dragged him behind the bar and pinned him under the pumps.

"Open wide, me old sod!" the sergeant cackled as his constables forcibly pried open the old man's jaws. He drew down hard on the pumps, forcing a jet of stale larger down the old sailor's throat as his men laughed uproariously.

"Hey, asshole!" Audrey roared, fist balled

The sergeant looked up, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Bit far from home, aren't ya, girlie?"

"Yeah, well... _Que te folle un pez!_ "

The sergeant dropped his victim without a word before leaping over the bar with a single-bound, followed closely by his constables.

"It's bad enough I'm stuck on this God-forsaken rock, beating some respect into these drunken Papist muck-savages..." The sergeant advanced on Audrey. "But I won't be talked to like that by some filthy... Buck-toothed... WO-AAAAARGHH!"

The sergeant was sent whirling as Audrey's wrench connected with his jaw, collapsing to the ground in a half-conscious heap.

One of the constables reached for his revolver, only for his face to be intercepted by Dr. Sweet's fist.

"Whoops! Sorry! Involuntary reaction! Like it has a mind of its own!" Sweet apologized, before delivering a gut-punch to the still-reeling constable. "Uh-oh, there goes the other one! Bad fists! Stop it now, ya hear?"

The second constable was about to leap into the fray when he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder.

"Hey, pal. You might wanna take care of that?" Vinny pointed out the lit stick of dynamite entangled in the constable's belt.

The constable let out a panicked scream as he burst from the pub doors, racing down the peer before leaping into the cold sea. He was quickly followed by his compatriots, the half-conscious sergeant shrieking incoherently as the remaining constable carried him out.

The locals gawked at the three strangers in almost reverent awe for one long moment before...

"DRINKS ON THE HOUSE!" Molly proclaimed, followed by ecstatic cheers from the crowd.

"You enjoyed that a little too much?" Sweet teased Audrey as he attended to the old sailor who thankfully didn't seem worse for wear.

"Eh...Maybe a lil'," Audrey snorted.

"Not that I don't enjoy a good bar-brawl but I think I gotta lead on our monster?" Vinny drawled.

"Sure, lemme just say goodbye to..." Audrey turned towards where she had left Axel, only to find the dirty blonde's table empty.

[-]

Sgt. Harding cranked the engine of the old jeep furiously with his bare hands, as though he could fuel the vehicle with sheer indignant fury. His rage kept him warm in the endless cold drizzle.

"What are we gonna do now, Sarg?" a soaking wet Constable Perkins sniffled.

Constable Clives moaned something unintelligible through his swollen jaw.

"I'll tell you what we're going to do, lads," Harding puffed, face reddening. "We're going back to the barracks, bring back enough boys to burn this entire filth-ridden sty to the ground, and then… THEN I'm gonna find that buck-tooth doxie and-"

Harding's rant was cut short by an ugly wet thud as Perkins abruptly fell face-down in the mud, quickly followed by Clives.

"PERKINS, CLIVES, GET UP THIS INSTANT! I COULD HAVE YOU SHOT FOR-"

For the first time in Harding's life, his voice failed him as he noticed the needle-like darts protruding from the back of each of his subordinates' necks.

Something rustled in the bushes behind him. Then…

Everything went black.

[-]

 **The** _ **Tigress**_

"Carrots… Why is it always carrots?" Milo moaned, leaning over the boat's side as the former contents of his stomach were washed away by the waves.

Ned shot a glance over his shoulder as he manned the wheel. "Yuir sure he'll be able to handle himself?"

"Milo has great reserves of hidden strength," Kida assured as her consort retched again.

"Aye… Well hidden."

The _Tigress_ patrolled the shallows, hugging the coastline. Kida scanned the sea, trying to peer through the light, almost-misty, rain. "Would it not make more sense to hunt the Dobhar-chú in deeper seas?"

Ned shook his head. "The Hound fears the open waters… it never strays far from the coast."

"What could a man-eating sea-monster possibly be afraid of?" Milo wondered aloud.

"It should fear me," Ned hissed. "After what it did to my blessed Muireann?"

Milo stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Has anyone else in the village gone missing lately, or been attacked by the Dobhar-chú?"

"Not that I know of," Ned shrugged. "What does it matter?"

"It's just that most predators _avoid_ humans unless they're desperate or insane. And those that do almost never stop at just-"

"ENOUGH!" Ned bellowed, eyes blazing. "The Hound is no mortal animal! It's a demon from the pits of Hell, and I intend to send it ba-"

The three hunters lost their footing as the boat suddenly lurched to one side, almost capsizing.

Kida staggered to her feet. "What happened?"

"Did we hit a rock?" Milo suggested.

"No…" Ned whispered darkly.

Something burst from the water's surface, landing with liquid grace upon the boat's prow. Its overall body shape was like a cross between a giant wolf and a shark, all smooth contours and over seven feet long. Its greenish skin was scaled like a pike's. Its webbed, almost prehensile, toes ended in barbed hooks. Gills along the side of its otter-like neck fluttered in the night air. Shimmering yellow eyes peered out from under the mop of oil-slick black hair clinging wetly from its scalp.

"Ancient Kings preserve us," Kida whispered.

The Dobhar-chú's lips peeled back to reveal a crocodile's toothy grin.

Then it pounced.

 _ **To Be Continued...**_


	2. Act II

_Team Atlantis_ and all related characters and concepts are the property of the Walt Disney Company. Everything else in this tale is drawn from history both real and imaginary.

* * *

 **S.S.** _ **Atlantean**_ **, Bantry Bay, Co. Cork, Ireland, 1920 A.D.**

"He proposed? Congratz, Marge. What does that make… three now?" Wilhelmina Bertha Packard droned into her headset. "Believe me, honey, it gets easier every time."

"Uh… Mrs. Packard?" Dr. Sweet softly interjected.

Packard eyed Sweet like a wolf who just had her meal disturbed.

Sweet responded with an ingratiating grin.

"Gonna have to call you back, Marge. Got another call on the line." She flipped a switch. " _Atlantean_ to Sub-Pod 1. Come in, Sub-Pod 1. Unless you got something better to do?"

[-]

 **Sub-Pod 1**

"Sub-Pod 1, here," the Audrey answered. "We musta swept half the island's coast and no sign of any monster. Just a lotta silt and seaweed. It's almost like _someone's_ been listening to too many old fish stories."

"What can I say, the old guy had an honest face," Vinny shrugged, sitting next to her in the sub's tiny cockpit. "Kinda reminded me of my grandpops… or maybe it was my plumber? I don't actually remember what my grandpops looked like. Grandma burned all his photographs and made us swear never to speak of him again. Very proud woman."

"We'll keep you posted, _Atlantean_. Sub-Pod 1 out," She hung up the mic, returning her hand to the steering wheel. "I just hope this isn't gonna be like that time in Loch Ness."

"Tell me 'bout it," Vinny drawled. "Two weeks in a itty-bitty submarine going back and forth, back and forth, over twenty-three miles of lake. No monster, no nothing, not even like a… like a really big eel. Okay, I mean...Mole said he saw an eel. But nobody else saw it... and Mole also said it had wings... and the guy sleeps in fertilizer, so..."

Audrey leaned forward as something caught her eye, a massive jagged shape resting on the seabed. Only its general outline was visible through the silt.

She squinted. "What is that?"

"Eh, probably just a reef," Vinny shrugged before the sub-pod started to vibrate ominously.

[-]

 **S.S.** _ **Atlantean**_

"Doctor… I think you're gonna want to hear this?" Packard offered Sweet an earpiece.

Sweet listened intently to something like a deep low rumble. "What is that, a motorboat?"

"No… much bigger."

[-]

 **Sub-Pod 1**

Audrey and Vinny shielded their eyes as the cockpit was abruptly filled with a blinding geenish-blue light emanating from what looked like the massive… thing's eyes. They could barely make out its silhouette in the murk as it rose from the seabed; long and sleek like a predator. Its head tapered to a swordfish-like lance.

"What the heck is that thing?!" Audrey gasped.

"Don't worry 'bout it, I gotta lil' something special ready," Vinny's hand hovered over a conspicuous red button. "I call this… the Monster-Buster!"

A torpedo was sent flying from the sub-pod's hydrofoils, impacting its target with enough explosive force to send the tiny pod reeling from the shockwaves.

Audrey scrambled back into her seat. "You coulda warned me!"

"Maybe a lil' less paprika next time?" Vinny righted himself, straightening his 'tash. "Anyway, important thing is we killed the monster so now we can go home and-"

The vast predatory shape emerged from the swirling silt, lightning arcing across its swordfish lance as it turned on the mini-sub.

"Okay, now you can worry 'bout it."

[-]

 **S.S.** _ **Atlantean**_

The bay waters pulsed a bright blue, like sheet-lightning through a storm-cloud, before returning to an inscrutable greenish-black.

Dr. Sweet stood on the prow of the _Atlantean_ , praying silently as he scanned the waves for any sign of life. Cold sweat and colder rain beading upon his brow.

After some of the longest and most excruciating minutes of his life, Sweet's prayers were finally answered as a water-logged Audrey and Vinny broke the surface; paddling frantically.

"You two, lower me down and tell the nurse to get the decon chamber ready!" Sweet barked at some adjacent crewmen as he leaped into a lifeboat. Within moments, he was helping his soaking comrades aboard. "You two okay?"

"Yeah," Vinny drawled, wringing saltwater from his 'tash. "Next time, I'm throwing in a whole jar of paprika!"

A few scorched fragments of the sub-pod broke the surface.

"That ain't comin' outta my paycheck." Audrey piped.

Dr. Sweet let out a low whistle. "Well good news is Milo and Kida can't possibly be having a worse night than we are."

[-]

 **The _Tigress_**

"DIE, HOUND!" Ned shrieked, lunging at the Dobhar-chú with his great barbed harpoon. The creature seemed to slide rather than crawl over the wooden deck, easily avoiding the strike.

Ned lunged again and again, only for the beast to dodge each attack until the harpoon finally embedded itself in the _Tigress_ ' wheelhouse. A defenseless Ned frantically tried to pull his weapon loose as the Dobhar-chú warily advanced.

Kida leaped into the fray, slashing the distracted sea-beast's paw with the curved blade of her spear.

The Dobhar-chú let loose a howl before striking back with its heavy shark-like tail, sending Kida hurtling into Milo.

Before the two adventures could regain their footing, the Dobhar-chú pounced on Ned. The normally stoic harpooner screamed in terror as the sea-hound's jaws grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, like a she-wolf with an unruly pup.

The Dobhar-chú's gleaming yellow eyes glanced about for only an instant before diving back into the waters from whence it came, a squirming Ned in tow.

"NO!" Kida cried as she and Milo rushed to the side of the boat, but it was already too late.

All that was left of either the Dobhar-chú or Ned O'Malley was a slight ripple upon the surface of the brackish waters.

[-]

 **S.S.** _ **Atlantean**_

Kida and Milo trudged sorrowfully into the sickbay, leaving a trail of vaguely footprint shaped puddles in their wake.

Dr. Sweet let out a low whistle. "I take it back. Looks like everybody's having a bad night?"

"You have no idea," Milo sighed.

Kida leaned against one of the empty cots, head cradled in her hands.

"A man died tonight."

"Kida, we don't know for sure that-"

"Yes, we do, Milo! Why else would that beast have-"

 _Knock-knock._

Kida, Milo and Sweet's heads swiveled towards the decon chamber, where Audrey and Vinny's faces peered out from behind a glass porthole.

"You saw it too, huh?" Audrey asked.

"The monster? Yes!" Kida answered. "A vile sea-hound with yellow eyes and barbed claws!"

"Musta been at least three hundred feet!" Audrey added

"Uh, more like seven… eight maybe?" Milo offered.

"Needle-like fangs…"

"Shooting lightning outta its great big horn!" Vinny chimed.

"Wait… stop!" Milo threw his arms in the air. "A giant horn? Shooting lightning? That's not anything like the creature we saw!"

"Where and when did you see this horned monster?" Kida demanded.

"'Bout an hour ago… on the other side of the big island in the bay." Audrey shrugged.

Kida and Milo looked at each other in horror.

"That was around the same time we saw the Dhobar-chú by the coast!" Kida gasped.

"Hold on, back up," Dr. Sweet's signaled a time-out. "Are you telling me there are _two_ monsters in this bay?!"

[-]

 **Somewhere…**

Stg. Harding gasped as the burlap sack was pulled from his head. His eyes screwed tight against the blinding electric lamp directed upon him.

He was kneeling, chained to some sort of iron platform by his wrists. He could hear the waves softly lapping in the blackness beyond, amid the incessant patter of rain on metal. Beneath his chained limbs, he felt the distinct rhythmic swaying of a vessel at sea.

Shapes coalesced as his vision returned. To either side knelt Constables Perkins and Clives, similarly restrained.

Surrounding them were at least a dozen other shapes. Most prominent was a gaunt greying Negro. He was clad in a strange uniform of a dark blue material and brandished what looked like an air-rifle or harpoon gun.

The rest were clad in the same strange dark-blue uniform, save for the sable masks that obscured even their faces. Upon each figure's left breast was a sigil of pale whitish gold, like a stylized _N_.

"Who are they, sarge?" Perkins whimpered. "Are they Fenians?"

"Hush, Perkins. Let me handle this," Harding hissed. "Alright, you ignorant muck-savages! By the Authority vested my me by His Majesty, George V, by the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland and of the British Dominions beyond the Seas, King, Defender of the Faith, Emperor of-"

"Enough," a voice rang out; harsh, cold and metallic.

"Captain on deck!" The strange crew instantly formed themselves into duel files, standing to attention as a new figure strode forward with inexorable purpose.

The figure was clad in a greatcoat of dark, almost ebon, blue. A long curved saber hung sheathed from the belt. Head crowned with a jeweled turban like a Raja. The face was obscured by a mask of the same pale whitish gold, cast in the shape of a death's head.

The figure loomed over Harding. He could almost feel the boundless cold fury before which his own anger felt like a small pitiful thing, like a candle before the tsunami. He felt his anger shrivel to dread.

"You have no authority here, bootlick" the specter spoke in a low, chillingly resonant voice. "Nor does your infantile monarch. Here I am law. Here… I am judge."

Harding felt a cry of defiance strangle in his throat.

"Crewman Axel?"

"Aye, Captain?" one of the masked crew answered

"These are the men you spoke of?"

"Aye, Captain," she spat.

"Gentlemen…" The Captain sneered the word, like a bad joke. "You stand accused of trespass, theft, murder, and rapine! Have you anything to say in your defense?"

"How dare you, Sir?!" Harding huffed. "We are honorable servants of the Crown! We have stolen nothing! We have-"

"YOU HAVE STOLEN THIS ENTIRE ISLAND!" The Captain roared. "For eight centuries you have torn the food from its children's mouths, shed the blood of its sons in wars not their own, and tied to strip its people even of their faith!"

"And not just this island," The Captain continued unabated. "India, Africa, Australia, Polynesia, even the Americas! Everywhere the sun touches, your empire has brought nothing but slavery, degradation, and death!"

"Y-you can't blame us for all that!" Perkins sputtered. "We were just-URK!"

The Captain's gloved fingers clamped down on Perkin's throat, squeezing the breath from his air-pipe.

"You accepted blame for 'all that' the moment you donned that uniform," the Captain hissed before tossing the gasping captive to the ground. "Even if your own personal sins were not enough to damn you."

"And what of it!?" Harding snarled, blood boiling. "It only proves that we are the natural superiors! It is our God-given right to rule over inferior savages! We are children of Albion's fair sun, a race of conquerors and explorers! Bold! Fearless! Undaunt-"

"IT WAS THE SARGE'S IDEA! HE MADE US DO IT!" Perkins wailed, throwing himself at the Captain's feet. "We didn't want to hurt the old man! We were only following orders! Isn't that right, Clives!?"

A trembling Clives nodded frantically.

"Well... we have a confession then." The Captain turned to the greying Negro. "Number One, take the crew below and make preparations to dive."

"With pleasure, Captain," The evident First Mate struck his left breast in salute. "Mobilis in Mobili!"

"Mobilis in Mobili!" the crew chorused before filing back down into the vessel's interior.

"Wait!" Harding sputtered. "What are you going to do with us!?"

"Nothing more," the Captain intoned, turning to follow the crew. "The trial is concluded, your guilt proved, your sentence passed. All that remains is for you to await your executioner. May your god be more merciful than mine."

"Y-you can't do this!" Harding stammered. "What kind of man are you!?"

The Captain stopped, fixing Harding with an inscrutable gaze.

"As Ulysses spoke unto the cyclops… I am no man."

A hatch slammed shut as the Captain vanished from view. The blinding electric light was snuffed out, plunging Harding and his men into pitch darkness.

The vessel rumbled beneath their feet as cold, uncaring waves began to lap at their knees.

[-]

 **Elsewhere…**

Ned O'Malley awoke to cold brackish waves lapping against his face. He scrambled out of the water through the pitch darkness in a blind panic, feeling wet half-rotted wood beneath his fingers.

He took a moment to master himself, slowing his breathing and reaching for the matchbox he always kept in his back pocket. The box was cast of a tightly fitted copper which, God willing, should have kept the matches dry.

He pried the lid open. The contents felt dry enough but there'd only be one way to know for sure. Whispering a quiet prayer to the Blessed Virgin, he struck the match.

To Ned's everlasting gratitude, light filled the chamber, revealing him to be lying within a half-submerged cabin on what looked like an old capsized sailing ship. Algae-encrusted walls leaned inwards as they reached for the ceiling, or rather deck, above.

"Well, that solves one mystery."

The dim flickering light revealed the wooden walls to be covered in countless scratch-marks. They were not random but rather arranged into a veritable mural of crude pictures, vaguely like those he'd see carved into wood by South Sea islanders back during his whaling days.

Ned's hand reached out to one image in particular; a clumsily etched stick figure in a triangular dress, a mess of scribbles serving for a mop of unruly hair. By the stick-girl's side, towered a giant of a stick-man, brandishing an oversized arrow.

"Muireann…?"

The match died.

Before Ned could light another, the waters at the far end of the cabin began to churn and bubble. He felt around for a weapon, grabbing up a rotted wooden chair-leg lying among the flotsam.

The Dhobar-chú's yellow eyes slithered from the water, regarding its prisoner with a cryptic gaze. It paused uncertainly, before taking a single hesitant step forward.

"Back, Hound!" Ned barked, swinging wide with his improvised weapon.

The Dhobar-chú recoiled, whimpering like a scolded puppy.

"Well, what are ye waiting for?" Ned panted. "Ye can't seriously be afraid of a soggy stick!?"

The Dhobar-chú tried to force a sound through its malformed lips, only to come out as a dull groan.

"Well? Come on, then! FINISH ME, LIKE YOU FINISHED MUIREANN!"

The Dhobar-chú twisted its lips once more, forcing out another sound. This time it was a single unmistakable word…

"Daaaaaaaaddddyyyyy…"

 _ **To Be Concluded…**_


	3. Act III

_Team Atlantis_ and all related characters and concepts are the property of the Walt Disney Company. Everything else in this tale is drawn from history both real and imaginary.

* * *

 **The Hungry Seadog Inn, Banty Bay, Co. Cork, Ireland, 1920 A.D.**

Pale grey daylight filtered through the rivulets of rainwater running down the bay window, giving the pub's interior an oddly colder cast then it had the night before.

Two rectangular tables had been shoved together and strewn with maps and charts depicting the village, the bay and the surrounding countryside for miles around. Around them sat Kida, Milo, Audrey, Dr. Sweet, and Vinny.

"There must be something we're missing here," Milo ran his fingers through his stringy chestnut hair. "Okay, what do we know so far?"

"We know the Dhobar-chú hunts along the coastline," spoke Kida.

"And that big lightning-monster's skulking around somewhere in the deep bay," Audrey chipped in.

"Ned said the Dhobar-chú was afraid of deep water…" Milo stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe the lightning monster is some kind of super-predator that's hunted the Dhobar-chú to near extinction?"

"I guess it's true what they say," Vinny drawled. "There's always a bigger fish."

"Grub's up!" Molly the barmaid swooped in, rapidly dispensing five bowls of watery oxtail stew. "Anything else, luvs?"

"No, but thanks again, Molly," Sweet shook his head. "Not unless you know any good monster hang-outs hereabouts?"

"Well…" she paused, a strangely far-away look gleaming in her eye. "If _I_ were a giant unholy man-devouring beastie lookin' to set up shop 'round these parts… I suppose my best bet would probably be _Le Vengeur_."

Audrey cocked her head. "Le what now?"

"It's an old wreck about five miles up the coast, part of an armada sent by France to aid Wolfe Tone's Rebellion back in 1798," Molly sighed wistfully. "Obviously, it dinnea help much."

The five adventures exchanged a few glances.

Milo shrugged.

"It's as good a place as any to start, I guess."

[-]

 _ **Le Vengeur**_

A high pitched whirring echoed through once silent corridors of the old derelict as a spinning saw-blade sliced a six by six foot square in the hull. Someone grunted as they kicked the wooden panel inwards, allowing clear grey-white daylight to penetrate the ancient wreck for the first time in over a century.

A rope ladder tumbled down from above before Vinny began climbing down.

"You know, I coulda just blown our way in?"

"Yeah..." Audrey clambered after, a portable circular-saw and battery-pack strapped to her back. "We kinda need the boat intact if we wanna search it, Vinny."

They were followed in short order by Kida, Milo and Dr. Sweet, the soft blue glow of their Atlantean crystals lighting the way.

"Maybe we should split up and cover more ground?" Milo suggested.

Kida nodded. "Milo and I will search the fore of the ship, the rest of you take the aft."

"How will we know if the other team finds the monster first?" asked Dr. Sweet.

"Easy," Vinny shrugged. "We just follow the screams."

[-]

Kida and Milo had been wandering the inverted corridors for about a quarter of an hour before they came to their first obstacle. The wooden passage before them sloped downwards, vanishing into the dark waters.

"It seems we are at an impasse," Kida spoke before stripping off her long coat and thick navy blue jumper. She had just kicked off her boots and shimmied out of her trousers when she paused to turn to Milo. "Are you not joining me?"

Milo's jaw hung low, eyes agog. "K-Kida... a-are y-you sure... I mean right now...?"

Kida smirked as she cupped his chin. "For a swim, Milo."

"Oh... Right," Milo grinned sheepishly, stripping down to his vest and boxers.

"That said," Kida purred, now clad only in her pale blue bandeau, bottoms and a sheathed dagger. "If you'd care to join me in our cabin aboard the _Atlantean_ after our mission here is done...?"

She let the thought hang unspoken in the air as she slipped into the water.

Milo watched dumbstruck for a sec before smacking himself across the face. "Okay, Milo. Focus!"

He dived in after, letting the light of Kida's crystal light his way through the sunless waters. After a couple minutes, Milo's chest began to ache. His lungs would soon be screaming for air. If they didn't turn back now...

Kida signaled urgently, he followed her lead as they emerged into a mercifully placed air-pocket. Milo gasped greedily before Kida clamped a hand tightly over his mouth.

In their crystals' light, Milo began making out their surroundings. It was a half-submerged cabin, walls covered with chaotic disjointed scratchings. In one corner slumped the still form of Ned O'Malley, clutching a broken chair leg. Across from him curled the Dhobar-chú, its gulls fluttering rhythmically as it slept.

"Tend to O'Malley," Kida whispered. "I will deal with the Hound."

Milo nodded, slipping out of the water and up to the unconscious harpooner. Thankfully, his pulse and breathing seemed steady enough. "Mr. O'Malley... Ned...?" Milo whispered, trying to shake the man awake as discreetly as possible.

Meanwhile, Kida silently stalked towards the slumbering Dhobar-chú. She slowly drew her dagger from its sheath. With luck, she would end this horror with a single strike.

"W-whaa...?" Ned moaned climbing back to consciousness. His eyes abruptly darted open, catching the glint of Kida's blade as she raised it high.

"NOOOO!" Ned screamed, shoving Milo aside and pouncing on Kida like a man possessed. The two combatants fell to the ground, each frantically struggling to wrest control of the dagger.

"KIDA!" Milo yelled, leaping upon the giant harpooner's back and letting loose with a flurry of balled fists.

Something snarled as gleaming yellow eyes pounced from the dark. Next thing Milo knew, the Dhobar-chú had him pinned to the rotted planks. It's crocodile-like teeth hovered mere inches from his throat, as its rancid breath invaded his nostrils.

"MUIREANN, STOP!" Ned cried out!

The Dhobar-chú instantly released Milo, retreating back into its corner with a whimper.

Ned released a stunned Kida, rushing to throw his arms around the sea-hound. "There, girl..." he murmured softly, stroking the creature's wet mane. "They dinne mean any harm. They just dinne understand."

"Wait!? You?! Her!?" Milo panted. "WHAT!?"

[-]

 _ **Le Vengeur**_

"Hold up!" Dr. Sweet spoke incredulously. "Are you telling me the little girl we all thought got eaten by a monster… is the monster?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, Milo," Vinny drawled. "But that sounds just a lil' bit… What's the word I'm looking for?"

" _Loco_?" Audrey offered.

"Loco's good," Vinny nodded.

"Yeah… that's what Mr. Harcourt used to say about Atlantis," Milo snorted. "But look here, Muireann's explained everything!"

Milo ran his fingers along a scratch-drawing of a stick-girl horizontal amid swirling spirals, some sort of rectangular construct dead ahead.

"Looks like she was swimming when she found some kinda door or cave… She must have gone in exploring, is that right?"

The Dhobar-chú, or rather Muireann, nodded her hound-like head enthusiastically as her father stroked her soggy mane.

The stick-girl raised her two-dimensional limbs protectively, as jagged shapes rained down on her.

"There was… an accident, an earthquake or cave-in?"

The stick-girl now lay on her back, arms and limbs twisted in painfully unnatural ways. No one needed Milo to interpret that for them.

A new figure loomed over the fallen stick-girl, tall, gaunt and indistinct. Its only distinguishing feature was a crudely carved skull-like visage, crowned with what looked like a saint's halo.

"Who… or what is that?" Kida whispered.

"The Angel of Death, maybe?" Milo suggested. "Poor kid must have been delirious."

The stick-girl found herself surrounded by a bizarre assortment of strangely angled lines that, to Milo's antiquarian eye looked almost, like a sarcophagus or…

"Jiminy Christmas!" Milo exclaimed, as his brain finally caught up. "It's a machine!"

The stick-girl was at last replaced entirely by a four-legged blob-like beast, its mouth a mess of triangular teeth.

"I've done you a great wrong, Muireann, and almost did you an unforgivable one." Kida knelt before the Dhobar-chú, noticing the wound left by her spear on the girl-beast's paw. "May I?"

The Dhobar-chú looked to her father.

"S'alright, girl," Ned cooed. "She won't hurt ye."

The girl-beast offered her paw to Kida, who held her crystal to the oozing wound. Shimmering blue light danced about the injury sealing it shut as though it had never existed.

"Blessed Mother…" Ned whispered. "Please, tell me… is there anything you can do for my Muireann?"

"Perhaps," Kida offered. "If Muireann can show us exactly where this was done?"

The Muireann tilted her head thoughtfully.

[-]

 **Beneath Bantry Bay**

Muireann slid through the waters with a grace that belied her monstrous form, the last rays of the dying sun dancing upon her scales. She paused only to snap up a passing conger eel, wolfing down the squirming fish in a few short gulps.

Two sub-pods followed in her wake, functional but ungainly by comparison.

[-]

"You know, I think I'm gonna cut down on the seafood from now on," Vinny drawled.

He was manning the gunner position on Sub-Pod 3. Audrey sat in the pilot's seat beside him, while Dr. Sweet haunched in the back.

"You sure leaving its-" Audrey caught herself. "I mean, _her_ dad back on the _Atlantean_ was a good idea?"

"Man just spent the night sleeping in a puddle of freezing saltwater!" Sweet protested. "Last thing that poor girl needs is her daddy keeling over from hypothermia."

[-]

Over in Sub-Pod 2, Milo and kida watched as Muireann stopped before a looming stone gateway. Its cyclopean frame was engraved with countless antediluvian glyphs.

Milo squinted. "It certainly _looks_ Atlantean, maybe with some Late Lemurian influences?"

Muireann lingered at the threshold, turning to fix Kida with a pleading gaze through the sub-pod's windows.

"She is afraid."

"Can't say I blame her," said Milo. "Maybe if we go in first?"

Kida nodded her agreement as Milo guided the sub-pod through the narrow corridor.

"You know, I think I'm getting better at steering this-" Milo was cut off by a short sharp high-pitched screech, like iron nails on a granite chalkboard.

"What was that?" Kida asked nonchalantly.

"Nothing!" Milo grinned awkwardly, head sinking into his collar.

[-]

The sub-pods broke the surface in what looked like an immense subterranean grotto. Crumbled stone stubs that might have once been docks abutted the water, almost like a sub pen.

Audrey let out a low whistle, clambering out Sub-Pod 3's hatch. "Mole's gonna be sorry he missed this."

She was followed in short order by Dr. Sweet and Vinny, as well as Kida and Milo in Sub-Pod 2.

Last of all, came Muireann, slithering out of the water. Her hound-like head darted in all directions as though expecting attack from every shadow.

"It is alright, Muireann…" Kida bent low, holding the girl-beast close. "We will not abandon you here."

The girl-beast stalked forward, her thread steady if cautious, down a long shadowed passage.

"Ow!" Audrey cried, stumbling slightly as they followed.

"You okay?" Vinny asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Audrey replied. "Musta tripped on something is all."

"You should be more careful," Vinny drawled. "I had a cousin who tripped on a rock and dislocated his ankle once. It was a nightmare, foot all swinging off the leg like a lantern. Made a lil' squeaking noise."

Milo ran his fingers along the glyphs carved all across the passage walls.

"What you make of it?" Sweet asked.

"I'm not sure, a lot of it looks pretty technical," Milo admitted. "Frankly, Doc, I think this might be more your area of expertise."

Sweet tilted his head, intrigued. "Oh?"

"Well, near as I can tell this was some kind of research lab. Whoever built this place was looking for ways to manipulate something called the 'code of life'." Milo paused before a glyph vaguely resembling two intertwined snakes. "Does that mean anything to you?"

"Maybe," Sweet stroked. "Biologists have always known there must be some kinda medium in living cells that controls what traits get passed to the next generation. You know, eye color, blood type, that sorta thing? Could be a protein or a molecule."

"Could tampering with this 'code of life' have transformed Muireann," Kida asked.

"Why not?" Sweet admitted sombrely. "The Good Lord's been tinkering with His creatures since life began. He just takes His time is all."

"According to Darwin, all life came out of the sea originally. Maybe the ancient Atlanteans wanted to see if they could reverse the process?" Milo mused. "Well, I may be no biologist, but I can still read directions. The machine Muireann drew should be just around this…"

Milo's eyes went wide as they entered the main chamber. It was completely and utterly empty. Even the ancient tiled mosaics that must have once covered the walls had been pried loose, leaving only bare stone.

"No, no, no!" Milo fretted, running back and forth across the room. "This is impossible! It should be here! Who else would even know about this place!?"

Muireann whimpered mournfully, pawing at a large dustless rectangle in the middle of the floor.

Kida kneeled down, taking the beast's hound-like head in her hands as she stared into her yellow eye. "Muireann... I promise you, we will find whoever stole the machine that transformed you, even if I must pry it from their cold still grasp."

They raced back to the grotto, stopping short as the waters churned ominously.

Three new sub-pods rose from the waters, utterly unlike the models used by Whitmore Industries. Their sleek obsidian hulls were spiraled like the shells of giant prehistoric mollusks, portholes glowing a strange greenish-blue.

"Somebody expecting company?" Vinny asked.

The hatches of the strange sub-pods hissed like sea-serpents as they were thrown open, disgorging at least half a dozen masked figures in strange deep-blue uniforms and carrying bizarre weapons that sizzled and crackled with the scent of ozone.

Their leader was a tall, gaunt figure clad in an ebon-blue greatcoat, face obscured by a skull-like mask of pale whitish gold.

"The Angel of Death," Kida whispered as Muireann huddled behind her.

The skull-faced specter gazed down balefully on the assembled adventurers, before speaking in a cold metallic hiss…

"Surrender the child."

"Over my dead body!" Kida snarled, pointing her spear directly at the intruder.

"Whoa…whoa…" Milo's interceded, hands raised in what he hoped was a non-threating manner. "Maybe we can all just put down all our weapons and-"

"The time for negotiations passed the moment you struck us unprovoked," the specter intoned.

Audrey shot Vinny a glare.

"Ooooh, that was you guys?" Vinny drawled. "Sorry 'bout that. Thought you were like… a giant monster swordfish or somethin'. Maybe a big barracuda."

"How did you even find this place?!" Milo blurted "Who are you people!?"

"I am master of all the Deep's secrets, American. I am the sword of the oppressed, the scourge of all empires…" the figure intoned like a judge pronouncing sentence.

"I am Nemo."

Milo's jaw nearly fell off its hinges. "What!? You… You can't! You're not real!"

"Enough," spoke the Captain. "Number One, deal with these pests."

"With pleasure, Captain," the First Mate sneered, drawing two weapons like steel batons hooked up to a battery pack strapped to his back. With a flick of a switch, the batons were wreathed in arcs of crackling electricity.

"MOBILIS IN MOBILI!" the First Mate bellowed, leaping directly at Milo with weapons raised high.

Kida pushed Milo aside as the electro-batons connecting with the ground sending sparks flying. Before the First Mate could strike again, Dr. Sweet leaped from behind, grabbing the assailant in a lock that pinned both arms above the head.

"I got this!" Sweet yelled, his captive trashing wildly in his grip. "You two stop that lunatic!"

"Thanks, Doc!" as he and Kida raced off.

The First Mate hooked a foot around Sweet's ankle, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Sweet grabbed hold of the First Mate's mask as he tumbled, yanking it off to reveal the face of a grey-templed Negro.

"A doctor?" the First Mate sneered, stalking towards Sweet with crackling electro-batons. "Isn't that cute?"

[-]

"Easy girl," one of Nemo's masked crew whispered, stalking towards the cowering Muireann with a raised air-rifle. "We're just gonna take a nice loooong nap."

Before she could pull the trigger, something in a mechanic's overalls barrelled into her with all the force of a freight train. Audrey Ramirez pinned her captive to the ground, ready to unleash a rain of balled fists when…

"Audrey, wait!" the crewman blurted.

Audrey paused, yanking off the blue-black mask to reveal the dirty-blond hair and grimy face beneath. "Axel!?"

Axel's fist connected with Audrey's jaw, sending the mechanic slumping to the ground.

"Sorry, luv, I really did like you." Axel retrieved the air-rifle, taking aim at the fleeing Muireann. A single metal dart pierced the fish-hound scales, causing her to stumbled and collapse into a motionless lump just at the water's edge.

The attackers began securing a still Muireann in a thick net before dragging her towards their main sub-pod, where a grim Nemo watched the battle from on high.

"NOO!" Kida screamed. "Milo, help Muireann!"

"What are you going to be doing!?"

"Stopping this at its source." Kida's eyes narrowed as she took off at running dash. In a blur of motion, she vaulted over the waters with her spear, landed atop the enemy sub-pod, and struck…

The blade of Nemo's curved saber, drawn with enough blinding speed to parry Kida's spear.

"And who might you be?" Asked Nemo, sounding more amused than angered.

"I am Kidagakash Nedakh, Daughter of Kashekim and Queen of Atlantis!"

"Well, 'Your Majesty', queen or no…" The Captain leaned close over locked blades, till Kida could make out her own reflection in the golden skull-mask.

"None strike Nemo twice."

[-]

"You're a joke, you realize that?" The First Mate snarled, swiping again at Sweet with an electro-baton.

"Well, I'm often complimented on my sense of humor." Sweet smiled nervously, narrowly dodging yet another electric.

"I used to be like you, you know? Thought if I got myself an education, a career, proved _them_ wrong, that it would change things!" The First Mate struck again, burning two charred trails in the stone wall. "But nothing was ever good enough!"

Sweet ducked, only to find himself backed up against a solid granite pillar.

"It doesn't matter well we dress and speak, how hard we work, or even how smart we are! They'll just keep inventing new impossible standards without even trying to live up to them themselves," the First Mate snarled, raising his weapons for another strike. "The only way to achieve any real freedom in this world is to TAKE IT!"

Sweet barely grabbed the First Mate's insulated wrists in mid-swing, electro batons hovering mere inches above.

"Now, I don't deny you make some valid points," Sweet groaned through a gritted grin, sweat beading his brow as the electro-batons inched ever closer to his bare face. "But how about you put away those crazy lightning-sticks so we can discuss your political philosophy in a more relaxed, non-lethal context?"

"You smile too much," the First Mate whispered darkly before forcing the tips of his electro-batons down on Sweet's broad shoulders, shocking the doctor into unconsciousness.

[-]

"EEEAAAAYGGH!" Milo screamed, ducking as one of Nemo's crew swung at him with what looked like an electrified gauntlet. Milo couldn't tell whether the hairs standing atop the back of his neck were due to the static or his shrieking terror.

"Hey, buddy. Catch."

The crewman raised his electrified fingers, instinctive catching something that promptly exploded in his grasp. The crewmen wailed as his gauntlet caught fire, waving the weapon frantically in the air before leaping thoughtlessly into the water.

The crewman convulsed for a moment before falling back flat-faced on the shore.

"Hey, buddy," Vinny drawled, stepping into Milo's field of vision. "You never _ever_ grab hold of a lighted fireworks. You could lose like a finger or a hand or something. Maybe an eye even. Oh and don't ever try and put out an electrical fire with water. Eugh… kids these days. They never listen."

"Thanks, Vinny," Milo panted as the demolitionist helped him to his feet. "I owe you want."

"For you, Milo, anything." Vinny pulled a pair of thick rubber gloves from his duster. "Say, could you help me drag my new buddy new back to one of the sub-pods? Seems kinda cruel to just leave the poor guy here when the whole place goes boom."

"Sure thing, Vinny," Milo nodded taking a rubber glove. "Just let meWHOAWAITWHAT!?"

"Oh yeah, while you guys were having your big fight," Vinne drawled. "I may have kinda rigged the whole cave to blow. You know, just in case?"

"B-But… WHY would you even do that?!"

"Eh, Milo… Have you _met_ me?"

[-]

"By what right do you to plunder the relics of my people, pirate!?" Kida demanded, spear thrusting forward.

"Your 'people' plundered half the globe to build their empire," Nemo answered, parrying the thrust. "An empire whose glories were built on the backs of slaves! I reclaim Atlantis' treasures in the name of those who paid for them with their blood; your victims!"

Kida spun on her heels, smashing the blunt end of her spear into Nemo's face. The golden skull-mask cracked under the impact, sending the captain falling upon the hull of the sub-pod.

"You may actually believe that," Kida panted, regaining her balance as the pod lurched beneath them. "But I will allow no man to abuse Atlantean science in yet another mad crusade!"

Nemo's boot lunged with the speed of a cobra, sweeping Kida's feet out from under her. She tumbled backward, barely grasping a handhold as she dangled from the sub-pod's side.

Nemo loomed above her, tearing loose the cracked mask to reveal the face beneath…

It was a woman with the cast of a queen; copper skin, raven hair, with eyes as dark and hard as onyx. Ears and nose pierced by jewelry of the same whitish gold. She glared down at Kida with infinite contempt.

"Nemo is no man."

She brought her boot down hard on the Kida's fingers, sending the Queen of Atlantis plummeting to the waters below.

Nemo raised her curved saber high. "All hands to me!"

"Mobilis in Mobili!" the remaining crew chorused, securing the still unconscious Muireann to one of the enemy sub-pods before boarding.

Kida almost hacked up her lungs as she crawled ashore, Milo dashing to her aid.

"Kida, we gotta get out of here!" Milo sputtered, helping Kida to her feet. "Vinny's rigged the whole place to blow!"

"No hurry, Milo," Vinny drawled, he and Audrey carrying an unconscious Dr. Sweet between them. "I told you it was just a precaution. The bombs shouldn't go off unless-"

One of the enemy sub-pods turned, launching a small fiery missile that landed somewhere in the rear of the grotto. The whole structure began to rumble as the last of the enemy sub-pods dived beneath the waters.

"Okay, now we should hurry."

[-]

 **Sub-Pod 3**

"Uuugh," groaned Dr. Sweet, clutching his skull as he sat in the cramped rear of the sub-pod. "What hit me?"

"Oh, I'd say 'bout five, maybe six thousand volts?" Vinny pointed. "Guy who did it's in onna those."

Though the glass cockpit, Sweet could make out three dark shapes speeding through the water ahead of them.

Audrey hit the accelerator, rapidly narrowing the gap between them and their quarry. "Got you now, you two-faced _perra!_ "

A fourth shape emerged from the darkness ahead, dwarfing the sub-pods with its immense bulk; a long, sleek predatory shape. The overlapping black-iron plates of its hull were like the scales of a prehistoric marine reptile. Its portholes glimmered an eerie greenish-blue, like the eyes of a sea-serpent, and its prow tapered into a vicious lance.

Dr. Sweet's eyes widened. "Lord… Please tell me I'm still sleeping."

[-]

 **Sub-Pod 2**

"I can't believe it! It's just like in the book!" Milo babbled. "Well I mean the one in the book a lot smaller, and waaaay less mean looking but it has to be!?"

"Milo, what is it?!" Kida implored.

"It's…"

[-]

 **The** _ **Nautilus**_

"Captain on deck!" the First Mate barked.

Nemo strode into the control room, followed by her command crew, taking her seat upon an ornate throne. "Helm set course for the open Atlantic, full speed. This bay has become too… confining for my tastes."

"Aye, Captain," responded the muscular Hawaiian woman standing by the wheel, her hair bushy and uniform disheveled. Her eyes darted about the chamber. "Where's Sha?"

"Sha fell into the enemy's hands," the First Mate answered.

"And we're just going to leave him!?" the Helmswoman snapped back.

"That's enough, Leialoha!" Nemo admonished, before releasing a deep sigh. "Sha survived the Mechiya massacre, he'll survive this. He would expect us to do the same."

"Aye, Captain," the Helmswoman conceded sadly, turning the wheel. "Taking her out."

"Captain? I have something closing on an intercept course," spoke an aged balding Pole bent over the sonar station, his long thin beard training half-way to the ground. "It's the Americans' ship!"

[-]

 **S.S.** _ **Atlantean**_

Captain Magnus Mantell didn't really consider himself a part of what Mr. Whitmore colorfully called 'Team Atlantis', or as Mantell privately thought of them; 'that roving band of feckless lunatics'.

He preferred to think of himself as a simple ferryman. Take the passengers where they wanted, wait at a safe distance for them to finish stirring up whatever deviltry they happened to stumble on this week, and collect them afterward on the odd chance they happened to survive.

Mantell was no coward, he'd faced death a thousand times during the Great War, but he was of old Orkney Islands stock. His early childhood had been one long dark night filled with his mother's wild tales of the skinless Nuckelavee, rapacious selkies, and other horrors.

He feared no material foe, but any hint of Krakens, sea-devils or the occult struck him with a spiritual dread. So when Thatch had radioed just a few moments ago, he'd almost been relieved.

He hadn't been able to make out all the details from the linguist's babbling, but a heavily armed rogue U-boat manned by pirates and fanatics was a foe Captain Mantell could understand. And any foe that could be understood could be beaten.

[-]

 **The** _ **Nautilus**_

Nemo flicked a switch along the arm of her throne, opening a com to the engine room. "Axel, how long to charge the Nullifier?"

"Five minutes, maybe four if I cut corners, but there's a risk of permanently burning it out," replied the static tinged voice of the engineer.

"Understood, you have two."

[-]

 **S.S.** _ **Atlantean**_

"Mrs. Packard, ETA 'til we intercept the enemy sub?" Mantell demanded.

"You're gonna reuse your old wedding dress?" Packard droned. "Margie hunny, that's not a good idea."

"PACKARD!?"

"Gimme a sec, Margie," Packard droned. "ETA One minute, thirty seconds!"

[-]

 **The** _ **Nautilus**_

"One minute, twenty seconds!" Axel's voice crackled through the com.

[-]

 **S.S.** _ **Atlantean**_

"Thirty seconds!" Packard rasped.

"Ready depth-charges!" Mantell bellowed.

[-]

 **The** _ **Nautilus**_

"Nullifier fully charged, Captain!"

The corner of Nemo's lips curled upwards.

"Fire."

[-]

 **S.S.** _ **Atlantean**_

"On my mark, drop charges… N-" Mantell barked, as every light on the bridge suddenly flickered and died.

"What happened?!" he demanded, scrambling through the darkened bridge.

Packard experimentally smacked the inert block that been a working console just a few seconds ago. "Beats me."

Mantell raced out onto the deck, just in time to watch an eerie green-blue glow pass beneath the hull and out into the open waters of the wide Atlantic.

[-]

 **Sub-Pod 2**

"NO, NO NO!" Kida roared, beating the inert controls. Watching in futile horror as the sub-pod groaned to a halt, the dense water sapping its inertia.

A dark chuckle filtered from the back of the cockpit.

"What the Hell is so funny?" Milo demanded, turning on the _Nautilus_ crewman bound in the rear of the sub-pod.

"You," the crewman sneered. "The Great Powers have hunted the Captain for almost a century, yet you thought to succeed where they failed? With what, a handful of miscreants and two tiny sub-pods?"

"We have not failed yet," Kida swore.

"Oh, don't delude yourself," the crewman snorted. "The Captain has all the waters of the Earth to hide in! What's more; she's smarter than you, smarter than anyone! But go on, trawl the seas 'til the Day of Judgement for all the good it will-"

Kida spun around, grabbing the crewman by the throat as she drew her dagger.

"Kida, STOP!" Milo cried, throwing himself around her arm. "Please… he's not worth it."

Kida glared at her captive for a long silent moment… before tossing him back to the floor and sheathing her blade. She stared out into the cold, empty Deep.

"We… we need to talk to Ned."

[-]

 **Bantry Bay**

The rain pelted mournfully upon the grimy window pane of the old stone cottage as the pale light of dawn filtered through. Ned O'Malley sobbed uncontrollably into the arms of Molly the barmaid, who glared accusingly at what she considered the source of Ned's grief.

Across the room sat at a respectful distance, sat Kida, Milo, Audrey, Vinny and Dr. Sweet. Each was silent.

After what seemed an eternity, Kida stepped forward. "Ned… I…"

 _Knock knock._

"I'll get that," Milo offered, eager for something, anything, to do. No sooner had he opened the door then a small figure blurred past him, throwing its bony arms about Ned.

"DADDY!" cried a human child with a mop of unruly red hair, no older than twelve and clad in a ridiculously oversized greatcoat of ebon-blue.

"MUIREANN!? OH, THANK GOD, HIS BLESSED MOTHER, AND ALL THE SAINTS ABOVE!" Ned cried, swinging his daughter about his head, laughing and crying. "But… how…?"

"She asked me to give you this," Muireann spoke, drawing a thick envelope from the recesses of the oversized greatcoat.

Ned gingerly tore open the envelope, allowing three large gold coins to clang heavily to the floor.

"Wow," Vinny drawled, bending over. "Those are Spanish doubloons. You could buy like half a whaling boat with those, maybe three quarters, A third at least."

Ned drew a thin page of strangely greenish tinted paper from the envelope, handing it to Milo with some embarrassment. "Could you…? I… can't really…"

"Oh, oh… of course," Milo nodded before he began reading out loud…

 _My dear Mr. O'Malley,_

 _I owe you and young Muireann the most abject of apologies. It was never my intention that your family become causalities in our struggle against the Great Powers._

 _When I first happened upon Muireann, her injuries were far too severe for conventional medicine. In haste and desperation, I was forced to rely on science beyond my understanding. In doing so, I saved the child's life almost at the cost of her humanity._

 _In her uncomprehending terror, Muireann fled before the process could be reversed. Yet I could not return to the open Deep without first setting right what I myself had put wrong._

 _I pray these few coins will serve as some small recompense for the pain I inadvertently caused you both._

 _Your friend and ally,_

 _Captain Nemo._

Milo let the letter fall to the floor, catching sight of Kida slipping out the front door as the rest of the team crowded about the happily reunited family.

"Could you give me a sec?"

[-]

Kida stood on the shore with arms crossed, letting the foam lap her boots. "Muireann would never have been in any danger if Nemo had not been looting Atlantean artifacts to begin with."

"Maybe," Milo conceded as he joined her.

"Before, in the grotto. You sounded as though you recognized the name?"

"Sorta," answered Milo. "The original Captain Nemo was a fictional character created by Jules Verne. He was an Indian Prince who invented an advanced submarine to escape the injustices of the surface world and wage war on the empire that invaded his homeland. I guess this Nemo is a fan."

Kida gazed out over the cold grey waves, thinking about her own homeland, lost to her... somewhere in the Deep.

"Of course!" Milo smacked his forehead. "Nemo is a contraction of the Latin 'ne homo' which literally mean 'no man'!"

Kida arched an eyebrow.

"'Cuz she's a woman, you see?" Milo mumbled. "It's kind of a pun or double entendre."

Kida smiled, ruffling his chestnut hair. "Never ever change, Milo."

[-]

 **The _Nautilus_ , Somewhere beneath the Atlantic Ocean**

Nemo sat in the grand salon, clad simply in leather boots, dark blue breeches, and a plain white undershirt. Before her, a vast iris-like window opened to reveal all the glories of the Deep. In one hand, a cigar smoldered. In the other, she held a small leather-bound volume that commanded her complete attention.

Someone coughed softly.

She looked up to meet the gaze of her First Mate, standing attentively by the entrance.

"Yes, Number One?" she spoke.

"Axel and Leialoha are almost finished cataloging the artifacts salvaged in Ireland," said the First Mate. "They should be ready for inspection within the hour."

"Very good," Nemo replied.

The First Mate tilted his head slightly. " _The Antediluvian World_ by Ignatius Donnelly?"

"It owes more to fancy than history," Nemo snorted. "But Donnelly was perhaps more right than he knew."

"This is about that woman back in the grotto, isn't it?"

"Over ten millennia ago, the Atlanteans held half this world under their boot. If that girl really is what she claims, if she truly is the heir to the Lost Empire... then I can think of only _one_ reason why she would seek the relics of Atlantis."

Nemo snapped the tome shut, rising to gaze out the great window. Cyclopean ruins stretched out upon the seabed, bathed in the dull red glow of a submerged volcano. She took a long deep drag on the cigar, wreathing her visage in smoke.

"I have not spent a century loosening the Great Powers' grip upon this world only to hand it off to yet another tyrant," she rasped.

Beneath her white undershirt, something pulsed briefly with a pale blue glow.

"For the future of this world, for the liberty of generations unborn…

Kidagakash Nedakh must die."

 _ **Never The End…**_


	4. End Credits

[-]

 **Featuring the voice talents of...**

Greg Berger – Constable Perkins

Tia Carrere - Leialoha

Scott Cleverdon – Ned O'Malley

Neil Dickson – Sgt. Harding

Sheena Easton – Molly

Eric Lopez - Sha

John Mahoney - Preston B. Whitmore

Danica McKeller - Axel

Phil Morris – Dr. Joshua Strongbear Sweet

Don Novello - Vincenzo "Vinny" Santorini

Jacqueline Obradors - Audrey Rocio Ramirez, Coibhe

Brina Palencia – Muireann O'Malley

Khary Payton - "Number One"

Florence Stanley - Wilhelmina Bertha Packard:

Cree Summer – Queen Kidagakash "Kida" Nedakh, Aisling

James Arnold Taylor – Milo Tatch

Frank Welker – The Dhobar-Chú, Captain Magnus Mantell, Obby

With Special Guest Star Shelley Conn as Captain Nemo

[-]

 _Team Atlantis_ is the property of the Walt Disney company.

Special thanks, as always, to Gryphinwrym7, Masterdramon and GregX for providing beta-reading and feedback. Check out their profiles for even more stories set in the _Age of Gargoyles_ universe.

Extra special thanks to Masterdramon for creating the character of Leialoha, the _Nautilus_ ' own Wayfinder

[-]

Team Atlantis will return...


End file.
